


Monotonous

by ahamkara



Series: Fragments of Guardian Minerva [5]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Grimoire Card, Introspection, Lore Drabble, Voidwalker Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22392979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahamkara/pseuds/ahamkara
Summary: A literary creative attempt from Grimoire Card "Voidwalker" (Class Description) Destiny 1.A newly arisen Guardian tries to make sense of the newly awaken reality she finds herself in, firstly starting with the anomaly that is the void. Queue the beginning.
Series: Fragments of Guardian Minerva [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/660830
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Monotonous

**Author's Note:**

> I've finally returned to Destiny after abandoning the game for a few years. I've been actively rewriting all these new ideas for this wonderful universe and the Guardian OC that's dear to my heart.
> 
> Huge kudos to Liz for beta'ing as usual. ♥

_"Those who have stared into the Void are not bound by the laws of space and time."_

The Traveler came out of the void that surrounds all things. Thus we know that the void is full of power. Thus we enter the void without fear.

Small minds will call your abilities blasphemous. They will compare you to the abominable Wizards of the Hive.

But you will not be held back. Gifted with The Traveler's Light, armed with the secret physics of a lost age, you will tear reality asunder.

You will fear nothing, and nothing will not fear you.  


  
**_Destiny 1 — Voidwalker — Grimoire Card  
  
_ **

* * *

The Guardian's Light is a gift. At least that's what the Ghost says.

It thrums with hunger under translucent skin, begging to consume and swallow the world whole.

The light is a power that is alive and wielded into the existence of Guardians to protect, but it feels _angry._ She's not sure what the whispers mean, but it frightens her all the same.

The Ghost's voice is kind and does not rush her. It urges her to meditate and understand the light.

She is chosen as the last vessel of The Traveler's remaining light, or The Speaker says. She does not have the choice to fear her existence, or the power that whispers of a language lost to time. Despite not understanding the words, she can feel its rage that screams to be unleashed.

Her first moments of life, she was fighting to escape. Her Ghost constantly reminding her that she needed to get out.

The adrenalin surged through her blood, and despite never holding a gun- she mowed down those creatures like clockwork.

Ghost continued to encourage her, giving directions and guiding her through it all. It was then when those screams began, and she couldn’t make heads or tails of anything, including her own thoughts, despite Ghost calling out to her.

Instinctively, she drew a deep, ancient power to life. It grew large in mass, and its negative energy swallowed the very air she breathed.

It was _wrong_.

She flung it toward the Fallen Captain that roared for her blood. The Nova Bomb followed it dutifully and then sucked the life from it, leaving nothing but stardust. The only reminder of it was a scorch mark that marred the earth.

Void energy, her Ghost called it.

Powerful enough to summon all-consuming black holes that can be wielded into existence to her fingertips, to be flung toward her enemies.

She didn’t have the time to contemplate any of that encounter before Ghost was yet again urging her to transmat into that broken ship and get out.

She numbly sat in that cockpit and ignored those chilling roars that called out after her escaping ship.

* * *

She cannot remember anything from before, but she also cannot choose to ignore the naive hope and longing from her only companion. Its little light-filled shell begged to have her understand her new calling. Her destiny.

Now in the safety of the tower and away from the hustle and bustle of all the activity, the newly risen Guardian attempted to meditate. Her Ghost insisted that it had seen other Warlocks do similar things when focusing their power. She was in no rush to face anything else of her new existence just yet, so she did as she was asked.

She took a deep breath and lowered herself to the floor on a spot that overlooked the tower walls down into the last city below. Her eyes closed shut and she tried to remain focused on the energy that pooled in her diaphragm.

The energy felt hot, but equal parts cool. Tangible, but also so far from reach. Its whispers somehow deafened her own thoughts, with words she could not understand. She tried to grab it consciously, but it would dance away, as if teasing her to succumb.

Her brows furrowed, unsure if she should follow, least of all she be consumed.

She reached again while throwing away her doubts and fear. As if pleased, its rage simmered, and the void hushed.

_Do not be afraid_ , it seemed to whisper.

The energy was still hiding behind clouds of nebula and pure, hot starlight. Swirling gas wrapped around her and pulled, deeper and deeper.

Everything slowed until her heartbeat dissipated and her thoughts muted. Then, inky black stretched on for an infinity.

It smiled.

_Do not fear the unknown. Wield this power and tear the darkness asunder, Warlock,_ it whispered again.

Those loud, angry voices ceased to come back, and the soft words continued to lull her in mediation.

* * *

  
On the outside, the winds on the high tower walls gently brushes dark, cobalt hair back and forth. The whistling is soft and the sun waves away the chill of altitude. The Warlock's face is serene, no longer troubled by the war raging within. Her hands gently hold an orb of Guardian light that's warped into void energy.

To the outside eye, it is a little ball of hissing gas that pulses and swirls, twinkling with the same familiar starlight. It’s wrapping around the warlock's gloved hands over and over, hyperactive but also controlled. It is safe and small. Protected and revered.

A figure approaches, and the Ghost regards them for a moment, giving what looks to be a polite nod.

Ikora Rey waves at the unnamed Ghost and the figure who is calmly melding the light in her hands.

She blinks away the image of her old mentor and takes in the image of the newest Guardian who is somehow familiar, but entirely untouched. Her light curls with something akin to warmth and hope.

Introductions may be made later.

The Darkness will not win this time.

She's sure of it.


End file.
